


Following the Rules

by SmutWithPlot



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:15:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmutWithPlot/pseuds/SmutWithPlot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as he reached for the little blue book, she picked it up, and took it out of his reach. "Sorry. You're not allowed to see inside the book," she said, very official-like, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's against the rules."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Following the Rules

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this before Matt Smith, but I've updated it a wee bit as I'm posting it here. But I'm keeping the Chryssam scene, because that was the whole POINT of it, and I liked the interaction. I'm rewriting a couple things to put 11 in here (surprisingly! Only details!) to update it a smidgeon. WARNING: May induce pain and tears and feels.

She could see his eyes darting back and forth, the curiousity evident on his face. She smiled as she watched the inner battle, but when she saw the curiousity was winning out, she decided to head over there and save him.

Just as he reached for the little blue book, she picked it up, and took it out of his reach. "Sorry. You're not allowed to see inside the book," she said, very official-like, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's against the rules."

He gave her an incredulous look. "What rules?" he asked, knowing that rules had never stopped him before.

The smile lost its sincerity, and a soft, sad reminiscence took its place, as she looked up into his bright, intelligent brown eyes. "Your rules."

xxxx

They were both laughing. It was Crimbo. Christmas decorations hung about the room, the place smelling of gingerbread from the frosting covered home on the table, mistletoe from the branch hanging from the portal leading into the dining room, and pine from the tree just in the corner of the room. They each had a glass of egg nog and they were going through the baubles, starting to set things out for the tree.

"Now, I must insist... these first," she said, holding up a pretty crystalline ball with lavender mixed in the glass, the frosting like snow as a light glowed from within.

"Ah, they need charging," he noted, a smile still on his face. He picked up the sonic screwdriver from the table and in a moment, he was using it on the bauble. It glowed brightly, the gold glowing in their eyes as they both admired it.

"Oh, yes, that's beautiful." He touched it and turned it slightly to examine it closer. "Where's that from, then?"

"Midnight, believe it or not," she answered, getting up. Her warm flannel pajamas caressed her figure comfortably as she stood before the tree. "Went there on holiday, once, before it got closed down."

"I didn't know they had baubles," he said, curious. "Granted, I didn't browse the shop intensely, but..."

She turned to face him. "You've been"

"Oh, yeah," he answered. "Once. The hostess was rather nice..." He got a far off look on his face, and she took that as her cue to hang the ornament. She returned to her seat and held up the next one.

"Did you enjoy the sapphire falls?"

"Well..." he gave it a whir. "They weren't nearly as pretty as you." He gave her a cheesy grin, and she laughed, a big smile on her own face. She put that one on the tree, too. When she came back, he was charging the next ones.

"So. What do you think, your first real Christmas?" she asked.

"Well... it's not my first, per se..."

"Oh, yes," she answered, rolling her eyes good naturedly. "I should learn not to assume anything is a first for my dear Doctor, clueless as he may seem." They smiled at each other as she retrieved the next one, and he continued charging. "So. What was your first 'real' Christmas like?"

"Well...It was Rose, myself, R-Mickey, sorry, and Jackie Tyler. We'd just saved the world again, from the annual Christmas invasion - Great Britain had a bad habit of getting destroyed by extraterrestrials every December 25th for a while there-" She gave a laugh. " -and... Well, Jackie cooked, so it wasn't that fantastic, and it was just the four of us, so there wasn't much, but..." He held out the next bauble to her. "It was alright. Mind, Rose and I weren't there for the tree decorating."

"See?" she said over her shoulder. "There's something."

"Aye, there is that," he replied, smiling and taking a sip of his egg nog.

"You know something?" He looked up at her curiously. "I really want to attack that box of candy canes," she said, pointing towards the red box on the other end of the table.

"Those ones?" he asked, whispering behind his hand, thumbing discreetly at the same box, as if to make sure it didn't hear them. A grin blossoming on her face, she nodded. He lowered his hand and sat up straight, peering not-so-inconspicuously at the box. As if to keep out of its eyesight, he pursed his lips and reached his hand below the table - for surely it couldn't see through wood - and then pounced it, snatching it up and bringing it to his chest with a quick "Aha!" to catch it off guard. She gave off a set of giggles, to which he grinned, proud to make her smile. He held it out pompously, ready to judge the box of sweets.

"Well, well, well, box of candy canes. What have you to say for yourself? Hmm?" He gave it an accusing look, while she hid more giggles behind her hands. "It seems you've got a lech for my little lady over there," he said, looking up flirtaciously at her. She batted her eyelashes in reply, as he turned back to the box. "Well?" He gave it a moment to reply, then gaped, his jaw dropping at its response. "How dare you!"

She giggled again. "What did it say?" she asked, brimming with child-like curiousity.

He frowned at the offending box. "It said something to do with jealousy and hardness, which I am not pleased with."

She bent over laughing then, and he lightly lobbed the box onto the table, nearer to where she could reach it.

"Silly box. See if I ask IT for an answer next time. Enjoy looking, mate!" he added, pretending to be very cross with the box. "She's still mine!"

"Oh, you're so funny," she whispered, her cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much as she picked up the box and popped the thin layer to retrieve one of the sweets. "Do you want one?" she asked, holding one of the red and white striped candies.

"Eh, why not?" he replied after a moment, and she tossed him the one before retrieving another for herself, and returning the box to the table and picking up the next bauble.

"I will say, peppermint..." With a light snap, he broke the hooked end off the end and began to unwrap the long stem. "...Is always a good choice. Do you know it's good for thinking?" he added, looking up at her curiously.

"Aye, clears up the breathing, is what I hear," she replied, reaching for another bauble, and hanging it. When she returned for the next, he was just sitting there, sucking on his candy. "Say, Pretty Boy. Are you going to just sit there or help me hang these?"

He gave her a blank look. Then, "Oh, me?", while pointing to himself cluelessly.

She gave another giggle. "Yes, you. Come help me." She nodded her head back to motion him coming towards her. An eyebrow went up, and he took the candy cane out of his mouth and joined her by the tree. "And how am I helping?" he asked, his voice a teasing purr.

"By taking one of these..." she gestured, reaching for a bauble, not minding their proximity, "...And hanging it on the tree." She moved it over his shoulder - he watched it curiously as it passed his face and then his ear - and hung it behind him. She retrieved her hand, and looked him in the eye, her own eyes glistening with mischief. "Like so."

"You mean..." He took her and spun her slightly, so they were in a pose like when a dancer ducked their partner - and then he did such. Reaching over her, he chose a bauble, and then pulled her up, and spun her again, so that she was with her back to the tree this time, only they were much closer, and he was more focused on her than the bauble. "...Like so."

Slightly breathless, she nodded slightly. "Exactly." As her eyes threatened to flutter closed, the space between them seemed to disappear as he moved closer and closer.

Then he gasped as an idea came to him, and the upwards movement of his head let his lips brush hers, and she felt her eyes fall shut at the touch, even as he stepped back.

"I've an idea!" he said, his voice flooded with excitement. When she opened her eyes, he had disappeared out of the room, his own candy cane striped pajamas making him a comic figure, being so slim himself. She gave a sigh, the world spinning in a blur of warm colours, and she made to lean against whatever was behind her, but was met only with prickly pine, which deflated her dreamlike state like a pin to a water balloon. Slowly... but still noticeable. With resignment, she returned to the couch, and picked up her egg nog, wishing for a moment that she had spiked it before sipping at it. With Martian rum, maybe.

He came scampering back, his bare feet making an odd swishing sound as he did, a cheesy grin on his face, and a wrapped gift on his hands. He held it out to her, and she looked from it to him.

"For me?" She gave him a suspicious grin, and wondered what was inside it. "But Christmas isn't until tomorrow."

"Oh, it's Christmas Eve. That's close enough, innit?" he asked, eager. "Go on! Open it."

She gave him a look, but her excitement overcame her suspicion, and she gave a great grin as she ripped into the paper, him watching on with a look of great joy.

The white paper, speckled with tinsel and red stockings, revealed... a TARDIS? She looked to him curiously, and he grinned, nodding at her to go on. She held it up, and turned it a bit, and revealed it to be a book.

"A book?"

"A TARDIS book," he answered, as if that made it a million times better, and the grin on his face said that he was very proud to have acquired it. Or, more likely, constructed.

She flipped it open, but all of the pages were white - blank, and empty. "But... it's empty."

"It's a diary," he explained. The twitch he made meant he would have reached for his 'brainy specs', but they were in his coat, which was a room and a half away. "Or journal, if you prefer," he added quickly. "It's empty, so you can catalogue all of your adventures in it."

She gave him a look. "You mean my adventures with you."

"Well, if I'm the greatest adventure you've ever had, I can take that, but... Not specifically."

She laughed. "Your modesty is reassuring," she answered. Men couldn't appreciate subtlety, human or Time Lord. Nevertheless, she flipped through the book. As she did, though, she noticed something.

"Hold on..." Beside her, he grinned devilishly. "How many pages has it got?"

"Oh, enough..."

"More than a normal book should," she clarified, giving him a suspicious grin. "Time Lord magic?"

"Bigger on the inside?" he asked, also clarifying. "You could say that. Although I believe the term is 'technology'."

"Whatever," she answered, grinning, now taking all of the pages and flipping them again, noticing that the amount of pages that flew by were about five times as much as fit in her hand. After doing this a couple times, she was content with the illusion for now. She looked to him with a smile. "This is very cool. I thank you."

"Not at all," he answered, grinning, putting down his egg nog. "It was my pleasure."

Even as she looked down at the book's cover - an old fashioned, wooden cover painted blue that looked very much like his old ship - she felt a sort of disappointment inside. But, the spirit of the season caught up with her, and her personal issues were put aside, as she turned to give him a suspicious smirk.

"So. I suppose this wouldn't happen to mean that you'd like one of your Christmas gifts early, would it?"

"Well..." He made to shrug, as if he didn't really care either way, but as she gave him the look, a childish grin snuck out. "Alright, maybe just one." He even picked up his feet and tucked them underneath him. He was so... dorky. Yet absolutely adorable. She couldn't help but grin.

"I'll be right back," she said, putting the book with its wrapping back on the table as she stepped into the back rooms to retrieve a gift herself, him watching after her with a grin.

xxxx

"So, how's that book coming along?"

She looked up at him, as he poked about, that ridiculous bowtie on his neck, picking up things here and there, twirling a trinket curiously.

"What book would that be?"

"The one I gave you for Christmas." He put back the spinny thing before looking up at her, his hands tucked into his pants.

She gave a mischievous smirk. "You mean the Diary?" she asked, pronouncing it as such.

"If that's what you want to call it," he answered, turning back to the trinkets. She smiled at him, even as he avoided looking at her. Despite his body language and the light, conversational tone, he was prodding. It had probably been bugging him for some time. She'd had it for months, but how long it'd been for him was difficult to say, him being a time traveler and all. With so many faces...

"I don't know," she answered casually, returning to her work. "I haven't done much to it."

He looked up at her, the answer obviously not as encouraging as he'd hoped. "Really?" There was a note of sadness in his voice.

She just couldn't help it. She looked up at him with a big smile. "Of course I've been using it, silly." She returned to her paperwork. "Practically every day. Still, why do you ask?"

"Oh, just..." He flicked at a trinket on the nearby shelf. "Checking your progress"

She laughed. "It's a diary. What's it to you?"

"Oh, nothing..."

xxxx

As she was writing, he sat himself with a light 'frump' into the seat on the opposite side of the desk. She looked up at him questioningly, and he answered with an innocent face. It was the tall one with the glasses and pinstripe suits. He then made it innocently curious by leaning over the desk to look at what she was writing, but she pulled the blue book back towards her, covering it with her arms so he couldn't see, a big smile on her face.

"Oh... that's not fair," he said, almost moaning.

"What's not fair?" she asked, as if she had no idea what he was referring to.

"I just want to read it."

She shut the cover quickly as he moved to behind her, and she could hear a frustrated scoff behind her ear. She looked over her shoulder to see him glaring at her with soft contempt.

"You're not very nice," he said.

"Neither are you," she added, a smirk on her face, "Trying to read a girl's diary."

"Keepsakes kept safe in a book I acquired for you myself?" he asked, obviously off-put by her privacy, noticeably so by the way his speech sped up. He reached over her shoulder to tug lightly at it. "I just wanna see..." he whined, like a child.

With a giggle, she tugged back, but he didn't put up much fight. Prematurely, he gave up, and with a defeated sigh, returned to the seat before her desk, slouching and moping, his lower lip pouting out in a way unseemly. "You're no fun," he muttered.

She laughed into the book, flipping it open to her last page. She rested it against the end of the desk and finished her thought before adding, 'He's trying to read my book again :laughs: he's so adorable when he pouts!' and then closing it shut again.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked, a great smile on her face. He grinned in reply.

"Just checking up on my favourite Song," he answered, finding a piece of paper to peek under, his boredom and curiousity a dangerous combination. He looked up at her. "You got plans for tonight?"

She made to think about it, looking up to the ceiling, as if reading her schedule in her mind, and then looked to him, who was watching her with a look that said he knew she was stalling, and that he could play the same game - he was patient. Enough.

She burst out in a grin. "None that can't be rescheduled."

xxxx

"Oh, I'm sorry, love. I know, I know... I promised we'd be gone. I know." She passed him, her arm full of files. As she straightened the paperwork on her desk, he slowly turned the chair he was almost dozing off in to halfway face her.

"You know, you said five, so that's when I popped up - three thirty." Today was the blonde, emo-hair, that strong chin. The bowtie was this time black -- he was wearing a tux. Big night planned, it seemed.

She grinned. "So you did." He straightened up, a small smile on his face as he looked up at her, taking his feet off the desk and facing her correctly.

"So, how goes things?"

She sighed. "Busy... busy... busy." She looked up at him. "Yourself?"

"Oh, can't complain," he answered, shrugging, although there was a tinge of weariness to his voice. "Just running about, wasting time until I get to come and torment my favourite little _archaeologist_." He gave her that dark smirk, and she laughed at him.

"You could've zapped from our last 'torment session' to this one, don't pull that with me." They both shared a knowing grin, but she turned to finish what she was doing as he absentmindedly spun himself on the chair.

He gave a sigh. "Little gloomy in here."

She looked up at him and then the room - it had been a warehouse before her company had arrived, and the high ceilings and lack of windows left for a gloomy place if a lot of lights weren't on, and she was working late by herself, so it was rather dim. The dusty shelves and odd trinkets didn't help to brighten up the place very much. "It is, a bit," she conceded. "But, I don't spend all of my days cooped up in here." As she grinned to herself, he turned his head to look at her.

"As opposed to what?" he asked, sensing a cheap shot in there somewhere.

"Nothing," she replied, unconvincingly. He spun to face her, not suspicious, though a smirk played about on his face.

"Nothing, eh?" he asked, not believing.

She smiled sweetly at him. "Absolutely nothing." He gave a grunt, and then leaned back in his chair again as he spun about, looking up at the ceiling.

"Oh, got somethin' for you."

He looked up just in time, to catch the blue book, now tattered from age and use. He looked down at it, and then up at her, not understanding. "What's this for?"

"Don't you remember that?" she asked him, wondering if he might have actually forgotten about it - unlikely, but it would be curious if he had.

"Of course I remember it, it took me months to get it to work," he answered, the fact that he didn't understand evident by his slow and calculating words. "I asked what it's for. It's not for me, it's for you. Why are you giving this to me?"

She shrugged. "You're always trying to get into it. I thought, hey, you need something to occupy yourself for another twenty minutes - and I know that will hardly cover twenty minutes, knowing how you read - and since it's my fault, you can get to explore _my TARDIS. Lord knows I've been in yours." As she spoke, he listened, quietly curious, and smirked at the joke._

_"Yeah... But it's not for me to read," he answered, tossing it lightly back onto her desk, being gentle with it, before leaning back again, looking almost like he needed the rest. "The rules are, once it's yours, it's yours. I don't read it. Spoilers."_

_She looked over at him, her head cocked to the side. "Those are the rules?" she asked._

_He looked up at her. "Yeah. Always been that way. That's what a diary is, yeah?" He looked back up at the ceiling, spinning lightly again. "You put your own deepest, most personal thoughts and memoirs in it. It gives you something tangible to hang on to in the dark nights. It'll also help you keep up with me," he added with a smirk. "I have one, too, but it's not blue."_

_She lifted her eyebrow. "Really? Now, that sounds like a good read. The Doctor's Diary."_

_He grinned beside himself. "I started one once, when I was hiding out as a human. Entitled it 'Impossible Things', written as fiction with little sketches, when my memories seeped into my human consciousness in my dreams..."_

_"I'd known you were an amusing character, but a musing one as well. It's quite becoming." He looked at her as she gave him a cheeky grin. He merely smiled as he continued to twirl, waiting for her to finish her work._

_xxxx_

_As she rolled, warm and cozy in bed, she felt something odd - a metal frame at the end of the bed. Opening her eyes blearily, she looked out to the room she was in, and found it considerably small than the one at home, a closet across the bed from her, and room for feet, for sure, but not much more, and a door that was closed. She looked to the bed covers, and the small bed. She thought for a moment, when a possible solution came into her mind. She thought back for a moment, but her head suddenly throbbed, and she winced in pain. If she was where she thought she was - and it was very likely that she was in the TARDIS - he would have something for her to take in the kitchen or somewhere._

_She lightly flung the blanket aside, and looked down to herself - she found herself in a pair of pajamas that surprisingly fit her well, but that she could not remember changing into. She gave a sleepy smirk as she slowly got up, diagnosing herself with a hangover. She opened the door a crack and found herself in a corridor of the TARDIS, as she had suspected. She hadn't spent much time in the dormitories, but once or twice before. She slipped to the familiar room, and found it ajar. Quietly, she pushed it out of the way to look in, and there was a desk squeezed into the corner, and a small cot, a mussed up blanket covering an out-cold Time Lord, who seemed rather out of it. She smiled at him in his awkward pose, blond hair splayed over the pillow, strong jaw, mouth just open... and quietly backed out, closing the door as far as she could without bothering the noisy latch, and then tiptoed towards the main compartment room - ie, climbing stairs and going up, rather than going deeper down - until she was in familiar territory._

_She found her way to the kitchen. She turned up the light dimly and poked about in the cupboards until she found what she needed, and popped the pill, swallowing it easily. After a moment, her headache subsided, and she looked about. On the other side of the island that acted as the main cooking spot was a table that could hold a crammed in dozen people, but around it was only five chairs, one of which was adorned with her own coat, her pocketbook on the table, her satchel on the chair, her TARDIS diary sticking out of it. She looked at it for a moment, wondering. Then, she approached it, reasoning that she was already awake now._

_The book was peeking out, almost temptingly, and she easily pulled it out. She almost laughed out loud when she found a familiar tie wrapped around it and knotted, keeping the book shut from prying eyes. She chuckled as she picked at the knot, imagining the look on his face when he'd done this. Grinning and mischievous, trying to stir up trouble, pensive and protective, giving her some 'added protection', or frustrated, trying to keep himself from reading the pages. Either way, she unknotted it fondly, and after freeing the book, she draped the tie on her shoulders, and opened the book, flipping through the pages, most of which were stuffed with writing and pictures and sketches and other inserts, until it landed on her most recent page. She was half-expecting to see a note from him in there, but there was only hers._

_Looking at the blank page with slight disappointment, she reached inside the satchel to retrieve a writing utensil, and wrote an entry in. When she was done, she was surprised to see a shadow on the wall before her. She spun around to see him, watching her curiously. She gave him a smile, and he returned it, although it was a bit sad. She thought back to the singing towers._

_"What is it, love?" she asked, pulling off the silly bowtie and placing it on the table before standing to come to him._

_He shook his head, but took her hands, and looked into her eyes, smiling again, though it seemed to require some effort. She was troubled by his lack of response, but gave him a reassuring smile and wrapped her arms around him. He did the same in return, holding her close, his head resting on her shoulder, just quiet. She smiled into his shoulder, and closed her eyes as she stood there in his loving embrace. The faint thump-thump-thump of his two hearts, echoing against each other in his body was a strange thing, but it was comforting and familiar, after all this time. Still, the beat was very slow... and sounded almost weary. He felt rather old and frail in her hands, his warmth almost like it was dying out. She moved her hands up and down his back reassuringly, wondering what was upsetting her darling._

_"What is it, love?" she asked again, softer this time, whispering into the fabric of his jim jams._

_She felt his shoulders heave softly as he gave a sigh. "Just..." She felt his hands holding her close, and their grasp seemed almost hesitant, like he was resisting the urge to push her away - like he usually did. Like he was forcing himself to linger, regardless of the late hour. "Just know that... I do love you"_

_She leaned back, a bit surprised, and looked into his eyes. All of the time they'd been together, she'd known it, but he'd never been the kind to say the words. "I love you, too," she answered, though she was rather stunned._

_He smiled at her. "Don't say I never said it, then, eh?" he asked, taking a hand up to caress her cheek while the other lingered at the small of her back._

_She gave a small grin, in return, trying to be sincere over her shock, and covered it up by leaning in close for another embrace. His long arms enfolded her, and she held tight to him, wondering what on earth was going on with him._

_xxxx_

_Now, her heart broke. There he was, that same man... that mad, crazy, random, brilliant, clever, wonderful man. And he didn't remember her. It killed her, inside, and she thought back to that last night, wondering if perhaps he knew something she didn't - something he hadn't ever told her._

_He still groaned about archaeologists. She remembered, it had taken him years to 'get over' her profession. Eventually, he'd become 'more comfortable' with the idea, and definitely more 'supportive' when he realised his jokes on her chosen occupation were causing strife. Now, to see him groan again was like looking back with nostalgia on a memory that had, over the years, grown to be taken with fondness. It had annoyed her immensely at first, but now, watching him..._

_She sighed. It was odd, watching him. It was a rare face, but this was the same man who had taken her to dinners on exotic planets, taken her to the most breathtaking sights - one of her favourites was when he had taken her to see a supernova. From a safe distance, mind - the same man who could be a hyperactive geek on one hand, a complete loon, on another, and at the same time was undeniably foxy, in his own unintentional way. The term 'accidentally cool' popped into her mind as she smiled over at the stranger on the other end of the room. He had even reacted to 'Pretty Boy' as always - it was still hard to believe that this Doctor was not hers. Well, not yet. He would be._

_It was like... like looking at an unfinished project. Like back when she'd done a classic dig - she'd known the beast within, knew what the skeleton looked like, but it took them so long to uncover it. It was still exciting to see things uncover little by little, but... it was like someone had come in overnight and shoved all of the dirt back on top of her dig. What progress she'd had, what amount of the beast had been uncovered, was now lost. It was the same thing, and it held the same promise, but... it just wasn't right._

_From her position on the other side of the room, she could see his eyes darting back and forth, the curiousity evident on his face. She smiled as she watched the inner battle, but when she saw the curiousity was winning, she decided to head over there and save him. Even if this Doctor didn't remember what they'd done, he'd not read that book for a reason. ' _Spoilers_.' If that purpose was defeated because a younger version of himself read the book before their time... well, even then, it would defeat the authenticity of what had happened. After all, there was a significant difference in spontaneity and following a script. His fingers itched, his mind was swarming with curiousity. But the measured self-discipline was not at the quality of his later self. It would be cruel of her to let him hurt himself... or her, as it may be._

_Just as he reached for the book, she picked it up, and took it out of his reach. Saving him. Her. Them. Whatever it was that 'they' were. "Sorry. You're not allowed to see inside the book," she said, very official-like, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's against the rules."_

_He gave her an incredulous look. "What rules?" he asked, knowing that rules had never stopped him before._

_The smile lost its sincerity, and a soft, sad reminiscence took its place, as she looked up into his bright, intelligent brown eyes. The eyes that had once said, with the greatest measure of vulnerability, 'I love you'._

_"Your rules."_


End file.
